Wednesday, January 13, 2010

untitled



A foil of that imagination,
the other one.
Less sought after.

Dirty truck stops.
Heavenly corners and crevices of town
Where homeless people lay their bodies.

Dust between the books
Housed on the 11th floor of the library.
One last stamped in 1978,
Almost chaste.

The chipping gray mortar keeping
Stones together
Like the prescriptions that taped up the tears in my mind.



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